


Pilot

by kalypsobean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/F, First Kiss, Jessica Moore Lives, Jessica Moore is a Hunter, POV Jessica Moore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:47:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3746407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica Moore of the New Haven Moores fought hard to be allowed to go to Stanford. Her plans for her first Halloween away from her family get sidelined when she's forced to join the party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pilot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenellaevangela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenellaevangela/gifts).



> Gift fic for fenellaevangela, springing out of the prompt 'What if Jessica was from a hunter family?'. I hope you like it!

It's Halloween, and Jessica Moore of the New Haven Moores had intended to spend it in her dorm room, blissfully roommate-free and mainlining Gossip Girl. Her head was too warped for anything else; she alternated between suppressing the urge to yell at everyone she saw, and turning tail for home.

Home was safe; home was warded, the sigils were actually being reworked as she left. It had taken too much for her to even get here, cost too much, for her to go back so soon - not even a quarter in. Even if she went home, admitting just by doing so that some of her training had stuck, they'd probably say she brought the devil back with her anyway, seeing as it was the time of the year for the dead to rise and she'd been out in The World. What they would do to cleanse her, well, the party weekend would be time better spent catching up on some culture and working on not so obviously looking like she grew up in a cult. Not that it wasn't the truth, exactly.

 

Her plans were shot when her RA, a grad student rumoured to be a former cop with the do-what-you're-told attitude to match, banged on her door.

"Not sitting this one out, Moore," she called.

Jessica sighed. If the sound of the DVD on her laptop hadn't deterred Kim, it was likely she wouldn't go away until Jessica at least came up with a new excuse.

"Is this really necessary, Kim?" she said as she opened the door and settled her shoulder on the frame with her foot and hand on the inside of the door, so Kim couldn't barge in.

"Let me guess, studying? Not going to cut it this time, Moore. Grab your purse, let's go."

Jessica closed her mouth and shut the door, sensing the battle was already lost. 

"Costume run, gonna be fun!" Kim called; by the time Jessica had found her sandals and her purse, Kim was banging on her door again. 

Halloween was turning out to be a different kind of hell than she'd been taught.

 

So that is how Jessica Moore of the New Haven Moores ended up in a "Sexy Nurse!" costume, arguably the only sober student on the The Row on Halloween. Her head was pounding from the music and the smell of vodka punch and rather than flit around the parties that had started to blend from house to house, she sat on the curb at the quieter end. It didn't stop her being bothered, though she doubted any of the guys who draped themselves over her shoulder or tried to pull her up without asking suspected that she was discreetly checking for potential witnesses in the event she pulled the stake from her thigh.

"Samesies!" someone chirped from behind her, and a shadow fell over the road as someone passed under the streetlight. "You think this is all the shop got in?"

The girl sat down without asking and kicked her heels off, stretching her legs out onto the road and flexing her feet as a security car swerved around them.

"Lisa," she said. "Physiology."

"Sociology," Jessica said, after carefully checking Lisa's eyes for any reaction to the flickering party lights. "Jessica. Jess."

"So, Jess," Lisa said, leaning in a bit but still not too close, as if she somehow knew Jessica was tense and impatient from too many strangers in her space. "Wanna go somewhere you can hear? I'm in the 517."

And Lisa did not fit the mental picture Jessica had of the Pi Phis, at all, but as Lisa hooks her heels on two fingers and pushes herself off the ground, she can actually sort of see it - in the way she pulls her skirt down just a bit more than it wants to go and in the wide open smile Lisa gives her. 

"I have soda," she says; laughing, Jessica accepts the hand Lisa reaches out to her and pulls herself up. 

"Lead on, then," Jessica says. 

 

Lisa's room is small and every available space is taken with books or pictures. It looks so different from the outside of the building, which Jessica looked over for sigils and salt lines as Lisa pulled her through the door and then a maze of corridors that made the building feel bigger on the inside than outside. The plain walls surrounded by greenery had made Jessica feel oddly homesick, for a moment, but Lisa's room is everything that she'd seen online and imagined for herself, someday. She flops on the bed while Lisa pulls two bottles with unfamiliar labels out of her mini-fridge. 

"Orange or cherry?" Lisa asks. 

"Orange," Jessica says, because the red in the bottle looks too much like blood for her to take, especially today. The party music still filters through, here, but it's muted, as if Lisa's room is somehow insulated from the outside world; as if Jessica herself is cocooned away from it like she always had been.

She moves over so Lisa can sit beside her, and for a moment everything is still; they are two college girls on a bed, their backs against a corkboard and their feet hanging off the edge, and they could be talking about anything, or have books open on their laps as they quiz each other. But that's not what happens, although Jessica could see it, perhaps, in a future not yet forged. Lisa takes the bottle from Jessica's hand and puts it on the side table, the air itself grows heavy and almost stifling, and Jessica closes her eyes.

It's not exactly everything Jessica expected, though she would like to think she wasn't naive enough to be surprised. The first thing she notices is warmth around her, just before Lisa's arms settle awkwardly over her shoulders. She shifts a bit, in time for Lisa's weight to settle over her thighs, in time to sense a closeness and smell cherry and vodka and a hint of flowers. She doesn't open her eyes, but she lifts her face up towards the scent and suddenly, before she's quite prepared, Lisa's lips are on hers. There's not much else to do but kiss back, pouting into Lisa's mouth as, almost unconsciously, her hands move, sliding up Lisa's back, over the thin cotton and into Lisa's smooth, long hair. She twists her fingers into it, almost as if grounding herself as she finds her body pressed into the wall, the edge of the corkboard digging in just under her shoulder blades.

The moment hangs, like that, and Jessica is slowly convincing each of her muscles to relax, just to let this happen, when there is a banging on the door and yelling. Lisa pulls away, smiling shyly as she pushes her hair back over her ear, fixing at least part of the mess Jessica had made of it. 

"I'm busy," she calls out, but the banging doesn't stop. Jessica sighs, leaning her head back on the wall as Lisa goes to the door, and almost as soon as she opens it a group of girls come streaming in.

 

Jessica slips out amidst the crowd and walks back to her dorm, mercilessly uninterrupted as she goes over the kiss in her mind. There was a moment where it could have been more, just before they had been interrupted, when Lisa had leaned in just a bit more, and Jessica had forgotten how to breathe for the chills that raced through her body, leaving her head light and her chest warm where Lisa was touching her.

Still a bit dizzy, she pushes her door open. The fact that is unlocked isn't unusual; maintenance has been terrible and most of the doors are a bit tricky, able to be shoved open if someone fell into it, and there were certainly enough people falling over that it would not be unlikely that one had fallen near her room. But the lights are off, and her bag is open on the bed, half of her clothes peeking out.

"Where were you? Never mind," her cousin says. "We have to go." He looks her up and down, failing at hiding appreciation. Jessica could flip him, or knock his feet out from under him, but she's still fuzzy, half her mind still back in Lisa's room. 

"I'm not going anywhere," she says. "Dean, you know how hard it was for me to get here."

Dean grabs her upper arms, his hands rough and harsh after Lisa's gentle touches. "Jess, listen to me. Your dad's missing. We have to go."

The words echo in her mind, mixed up with flashes of brown eyes and tan skin and black hair as she sits in the passenger seat, the window down and Ozzy drowning out the last echoes of PCD as Dean drives her away from campus.

 

She sees Lisa again two years later, when she introduces herself as Jessica Jones and has to kick Dean to keep him from hitting on her. She doesn't know if Lisa remembers her, but as they drive away and she looks back, she sees Lisa still on her doorstep, and likes to think that she does.


End file.
